That Boy
by davh
Summary: Jaded: world weary, tired, worn out, fed up. A series of introspective musings. [Slight 12]
1. Chapter 1

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That Boy

**by: davh

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That boy.

Yes him.

He looks awfully familiar don't you think?

I remember now. He's always there. Standing there. With dark suit jacket pulled across his chest, tightly. Mysterious don't you agree?

The sweeping brown hair, messy, upon his head begging to be touched. To be pushed away from those startling blue eyes.

Such a cobalt blue, the colour of a stormy sea. Sparkling as if always laughing at some joke. But no, that's not possible. His expression is always too serious for that. His mouth always crinkled into a frown, as if deep in thought. His forehead, though smooth, is smeared by faint grooves as he stands there. Just simply standing there with his back pressed towards the wall. As if waiting. Waiting for who? For what?

Back to his eyes. They are what captivates me, after all. Those eyes which seem to flitter on their own accord, like the butterfly that glides across the meadow, escaping from the paws of the young tawny kitten.

And yet, when they stare into your eyes, they entrap you there. You can't, no matter how hard you try, pull yourself away from them.

They say eyes are the windows to the soul, but when he looks at you with those eyes…

Such understanding, and yet at the same time, such lack of emotion. It's as if you're falling. Falling with no soft landing at the end. Only an endless feeling of weightlessness.

Why does his eyes call out to me?

Why does his hair make my fingers twitch? Moving on their own accord before I'm consciously aware of what they are doing, to brush the stray strand of hair from his face. From his eyes. Again, his eyes. Why do they haunt me so?

He is gone now. I didn't touch his hair. He didn't even look at me today. He usually does you know? Tries to devour my soul with those unsympathetic eyes.

I wonder what he wants.

* * *

He is there again today.

I saw him walk off with this petite blonde man just last week. There was an intimacy in their actions. Not as lovers, at least I hope not, but more like people who have known each other long before the creation of the world. Yet, how I wish to be that man.

They were holding hands. As if he needed the condolence. As if the weight of the world that he bears was beginning to tear at him, and he was starting to fray at the edges. But it seemed too cliché. Nobody really bears the entire world on their shoulders.

But he does seem troubled again today. As if debating with himself. Some life shattering decision that needs to be made. And the ticking of the clock is catching up.

He fascinates me. That boy.

The confidence his stance exudes contradicts his eyes.

Those beautiful eyes I told you about last time. Such loveliness does not deserve to reflect inner turmoil. If only he would let me touch his hair. Push the silken strands away, and in doing so soothing his problems.

He lifts his eyes and catches my gaze.

And again I'm cornered. Trapped by the piercing eyes that have sent a glare to bear down upon me. I'm frozen. All thoughts seem to have fled from my mind. Except that beauty should never shine with unshed tears.

Why is he crying?

* * *

I've fallen in love with him you know. And pathetically, I don't even know his name.

Though if I had to given him a name, it would be something pure. Precious. Angelic.

Like Rafael.

Healed by God. That's what it means. Only he's still hurt.

Maybe not Rafael then.

Maybe… Hiro? An Asian name to suit his Asian background. But I'm only guessing. But he can't be totally; his blue eyes give him away.

God didn't heal him, but he is more likely, to have been touched by an angel.

Blessed. But still wounded.

Like a fallen angel who somehow somewhere lost his ability to fly, and fell. Shattering like a delicate glass ornament. Maybe not. He seems stronger than glass. More like elastic. With the ability to bounce back. But elastic seems so objectified, and he is real, someone with feelings. With pain.

He could very much be a hero. To suit the name Hiro. A perfect hero, just like a perfect soldier. Shaped by the world to save it. Yet, who will save him, then?

He walked away from me last time. After looking at me. He just gave me a pleading look, and turned. As he walked down the then empty street, he didn't look back. Not even once.

I wonder what he was pleading for. Its almost like I can help him. But I can't. I don't now anything about him.

Please let me help him though. I can't stand the thought of an angel in pain. And that's what he is. My own fallen angel.

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Some people have guardian angels. I have my own fallen angel. But I'm not fit to look after him. After all, I can't even look after myself. I can't even keep myself together sometimes. How then can I help in keeping him together?

I didn't ask for him. He came to me. Like an apparition that appeared outside the garage, where I work as a mechanic. He is there every afternoon, just as the sun is setting. Standing against the walls of the big company building down the road.

It's been a month already. Since the first time our eyes locked.

Yet his expression never changes. The pain doesn't seem to diminish.

Maybe they lied when they say time heals everything.

Though the eyes are fading in their glimmer. They no longer sparkled as if constantly laughing. They are now deadened. Nobody really deserves that. To no longer wish to continue living. There is always something in life worth living for. At least there is now for me, ever since he arrived.

I'm being selfish though.

I'm not telling you the whole truth. And I guess you deserve it. After all, you've been with me for a while now.

I'll let you in to my secret. I need to keep seeing him. I can't let him drown further into that deep darkness where there is no escaping from. I know he will reach there. I've been there myself. But you see I need all this not just for him, but also for me.

It's really quite confusing isn't it? I'll try harder.

I need him to keep myself grounded. His presence was what brought me out of that darkness. I was lost, wandering the world. I didn't belong anywhere, until he came along. Now do you see? He's that bouncing buoy in the middle of an endless chaotic ocean that I'm living in. And, it's terribly hard to keep floating without any help. I need that buoy to help me. If the buoy goes under though, then I will surely be swallowed by the water. It's not merciful like that.

I need him to keep me locked in reality.

Please, dear boy, tell me what's bothering you. Let me in.

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I am again standing outside shop studying him. I never tire of doing so. You'd think I'd have memorised every detail in him, and maybe I have. But I need to keep looking at him. At his features.

They grow old. Not with age, but rather with weight. Weight of something pressing down upon him. And he is using all the energy that is usually spent on keeping oneself young on holding that weight.

He is strong though. I would've collapsed long ago if I were him.

I keep a mask on at work. I smile, I laugh, and I joke with the boss. Nobody realises that it's all an act. Why would they? They are all too busy maintaining their own characters. But not him. He's too real to be just another actor on the world's stage.

He suddenly looked at me. With those cobalt eyes that I'm now so familiar with. But this is the first time they seem to speak to me. They tell me that I should not concern myself with his matters. No, not concern. Burden.

He then opens his mouth. Those full blood red lips move. The red lips I've dreamt of kissing when in my empty dark apartment. Speaking two words, and I hang for their release.

"I'm jaded."

Pause. His voice is sweet. Deep and musical. Smooth, grown, no longer a boy's.

His eyes then continue its minstrel as if the voice finds too much pain in what it has revealed.

The eyes seem to plead, 'Don't try to save me. I'm beyond that.'

Strange how they plead. You don't usually plead to escape salvation.

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Jaded: world weary, tired, worn out, fed up. Take your pick.

Jade is a precious gemstone. It is tough. I bet you weren't aware of this. But it's true. Again I looked it up. Remarkable what one can find on google nowadays.

But yes, jade is tough. It is stronger than steel. Ironic isn't it? His choice of the word jaded. With steel, one thinks of the saying 'nerves like steel' and that makes it incredible. But jade is stronger than steel.

I wonder why he spoke to me that day. I seem to take to analysing him. Breaking each of his actions down almost into numbers. As if he is a mathematical problem I can solve if only I could find that equation.

He would be a circle. Symmetrical.

No. That's not right. Circles geometrically are too simple. No, he'd be a 3D shape. A dome. Someone once told me dome represents perfection. Total perfection. Beauty. But they are complex too. They are in fact one of the most difficult things to build in architecture.

Yes. He would be a dome, if I could transform him into mathematics.

But people aren't as simple as a mathematical question. There are many more variables. Cases. And changes. People are always changing.

He does that too. Change I mean. Subtle though, that most of the time you wouldn't really notice. But I do. He fascinates me like that.

I wonder if I'm a mathematical problem to him.

I wonder…

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I didn't see it coming. Oh no. I didn't. But I should've expected it.

What with the fallen angel thing.

He is an angel you know.

But now, he's gone. I'd like to think he's back up in heaven. Where he belongs. With all the other pure white angels.

I guess, even fallen angels heal.

He is after all, my Rafael. My Hero.

I hope you're happy. Wherever you are.

I hope you are saved.

I hope I helped you. In someway. No matter how small. Please tell me I helped you. I'd like to think that I've had. I've come to depend on you so much these past few months, that I need this. This connection to link me to you for always.

I hope…

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Hope is a beautiful thing. Almost as beautiful as my boy.

I've begun to call him that. My boy. Not that you know, he's really mine. He probably is somebody else's boy.

Hope is really all we have in this bleak dark world. It reveals itself in various forms. Like the simple rainbow that smiled at me yesterday morning. Like that picture someone sent me of Michelangelo's dome inside the Vatican. I still don't know who sent it. It just appeared in the mailbox one day. Addressed to me.

Reminds me of my boy.

I'd like to think it's him who sent it. Like he is thinking of me in heaven. Watching over me. But I guess I'm just hoping.

There it is again. That word. Hope. It is all around us isn't it?

He never said anything to me, except those two words on that afternoon.

But he taught me so much. I owe him so much.

He brought life back into my heart. He lifted me even though he was already bearing the world.

He gave back to me hope.

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'I have to hurt you before you can hurt me.'

That was my motto before you know. Before he came along and swept me away with his silken brown locks and stormy eyes. Before he carried me away.

I honestly don't remember when I started living by that rule.

Maybe it was between the nth foster home they sent me to and the 100nth night I spent on the street, pouring my heart out to the stars. A tough street kid, growing up on the streets, talking to stars. What a joke. But you know, they are great listeners. They have one positive aspect that I could never forget. They don't talk back. They don't judge.

They just… twinkle.

That's why the moment I saw him I was drawn to him. His eyes twinkled like the million stars that listened to me.

He broke that dam, I've built up inside that was never unlocked. Not even to the stars. Not until the moment our eyes clashed.

We never exchanged words. Well you know, except for his two words, but that doesn't count. They didn't really tell me much. We exchanged everything with my eyes. Mine because his never revealed anything. Except for that day he spoke. But you know all that.

It was probably a good thing. Because if we used words, I might've hurt him. I'm like that with words. Talk too much. Not paying attention to what I say. Short tempered. Quick to lash out. Words are my whip. The whip that keeps others away from me. From my heart.

Him and me though, we didn't use words.

We didn't need to.

I loved him. It was deeper than lust. I truly believed I was falling in love with him. An overwhelming crushing kind of feeling. I know he needs it. Even in heaven.

That's why I can't bring myself to stop. Not that I really believe I can. Even if I want to. Which you know, I don't.

I love him too much to want that. Though it hurts. So much.

Why doesn't he come back to me?

Please… come back to me… please? Before I lose the part of myself you helped me find.

_I love you… I need you… Heero. Where are you?_

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	2. Chapter 2

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**That Boy  **

by: davh

**Notes:** Change in POV. It's companion to first chapter, thus this runs along the same timeline. Heero's POV this time. Enjoy.

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Who are you? 

Why are you staring at me with such intensity and emotion that makes me fidget under your gaze? Why does your amethyst eyes create waves that beg to be understood?

I am standing here, waiting for… I'm not quite sure what I'm waiting for. I've been here too long. But you know that don't you? I know you've been studying me. Imprinting my every detail, my every essence into your mind. But why?

I am not an angel. No far from it. I am not worthy of your attention. I stand here, with my jacket pulled tightly around my body not to keep out the cold, but to keep in my own darkness. To protect you from me.

Please, as you stare trustingly at me with your large adoring purple eyes, keep away. Don't try to save me.

How cliché you must think I am. Selfless. The brave warrior who marches defiantly into battle to protect a lady's honour, and of course getting himself killed along the way. I'm sadly not like that. I'm selfish. I admit it. I only think of me.

I am only looking for an escape from this cold dark world, and if standing at the sidewalk where you appear daily helps, then who's to stop me? I'm not here for you; I'm here for me. Never forget that.

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You're unconsciously beautiful. Did you know that? No I bet you didn't. You hold yourself together with this empty airiness, effortlessly. Your long auburn braid ripples gorgeously down your back. Caressing your body as you moved, where your gracefulness extends even deep into the roots of your hair. It catches my attention every time. I never knew I could admire some stranger, and their hair for so long. You are changing my perspective. 

You scare me.

You catch my eyes. They say eyes are the windows to one's soul. In your case, they weren't wrong. You seem to drown in my eyes; their reflections in your eyes create a drunken stupor. Almost as if to you I am as water is to a thirsty man who has survived in the desert for weeks with nothing but his own salty tears. You affect me too. The ease with which I can read you surprises me, comforts me. Your fears are evident in your eyes, but what saddens me is the lack of hope, of belief, of dreams. For a fleeting second I wish to replace those lost dreams, lost beliefs, lost hopes in your eyes, but that wish disappears as quickly as it appears.

I only care for me.

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He came to me today. He's not a relation, not a friend, not a lover. Not an acquaintance either. Just a comfort. He comes at irregular times of a year but I'm grateful for him today. He helps me examine the mystery of you. Did that surprise you? That my thoughts were of you? And I don't even know your name. 

You make me unsure of myself. I know I'm cruel, I'm callous, I get drunk on random nights when the world gets too much for me, I have casual sex with girls and boys alike, whose faces I can never remember, whose names I don't think I ever caught, and if I could give in to the animalistic instincts in me, I wouldn't hesitate to kill.

Does that frighten you? I'm not trying to scare you away. Please don't be. Please don't leave me. I'm just telling you the truth about me. Somehow I think you can deal with that. Please don't prove my judgement wrong. I'm beginning to depend on your presence.

I wouldn't hesitate to kill. Not because I enjoy it, I don't think I'm like that, taking pleasure in other's pain, in their blood pouring out of wounds that slowly suck their life's breath away. No, life's too precious for that. Maybe I should rephrase. I wouldn't hesitate to kill those who pose as a threat to me. A threat to your existence, I might also kill, but please don't expect too much from me yet. I'm not ready to give.

Please…

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Do you ever think of me? I think of you. I wonder what you're thinking about. I wonder if you're staring out at the sky and looking at that same bright star as me. I wonder if you are making a wish upon that star, unlike me who question it's existence. I wonder if you wonder about me. 

Do you ever wonder about me?

I've come to realise that I'm not perfect. It takes a while to get use to. You might laugh at this absurd notion as everyone was brought up knowing there is no such thing as perfection. But although I was always told perfection did not exist, I was always expected to be perfect. There's a difference you see, with perfection and being perfect. They always expected so much from me, pressured me to be so much more than I think I was ready to give. I was always brought up striving for that perfection, and being perfect along the way. But what they didn't realise, our actions didn't make us perfect. Our beings determined our perfection. My being is too dark, too unforgiving, unfeeling. I was never taught to give.

Does that help you? Explain to you why I will you to keep away from me? Because you deserve so much more than a broken spirit. And really, that's what I am deep down. A lost child seeking for love in this harsh reality. You don't need me. Move on.

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I don't know what made me talk to you. 

What made me say those two words to you. Maybe I was tiring of our mute communications. Maybe I was realising that you weren't really listening to me. To my words. But instead, listening to my heart. How you can possibly hear my heart, I don't understand. I didn't even realise I had a heart until I met you. You made me aware of that beating pulse through my body. Never ending, never stopping. Constant. Just like you in my life.

"I'm jaded."

Those words just slipped through my lips. I couldn't help myself. I wanted to prove to myself that you did notice my existence, that I'm not a mere ghost wandering this world without a purpose. That I did have a purpose, and somehow it all links to you.

Please, I continue silently, fighting the urge to take you into my arms and strengthen myself with your warmth, your life force and hear the beating of my heart in time with yours.

Please, leave me alone. I don't think I am strong enough to protect you.

I'm not strong enough to protect you from me.

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Did that confuse you? Our conversation? Well, really just my two words. I wish you had spoken too. Maybe then your voice won't haunt me in my dreams. This whispering wisp that twirls around me, encasing me in its cool dance, and yet it's untouchable, imaginary. It's because you never replied. I never got the chance to hear your voice. 

I will hurt you, you know. The closer you get, the worse it will be when the time comes. And it will come. Neither of us will walk long enough for eternity to come to a comfortable close. The higher you rise, the more distance you have to fall, the harder you will fall and the more pain you will feel. I don't think I can bear to see you hurt.

Somehow, over these months, you have become an integrated part of me. Almost as if you're godsend. Not that I believe in god. No, there can't possibly be an all-powerful being out there controlling our lives. Because if there is, you wouldn't be crying.

You are precious to me. You are vital to me. I need you.

Isn't that strange? You've come to mean more to me than any other person on this world, and I don't even know your name, you've never spoken a single word to me. Yet, your presence is familiar, almost like home.

I love...

No, I'm not ready to admit it. Not just yet.

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You're gone. 

Just like that.

I don't believe it.

I never imagined it.

It's my fault really. A business trip that cause me to leave for two weeks. And when I come back... But still...

I thought you depended on me. I thought you needed me. I thought that if I came back, you'd still be here. That we were crucial to each other's survival.

I thought you could never depend on me, because I will disappear. I thought I would hurt you, because I am not a good person. I thought one day I will break your heart.

I never thought you could do all that to me.

It doesn't seem real. This threat that I probably will never see you again.

I am alone again, yet the world seems so much emptier.

I miss you. Do you miss me? Wherever you are…

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They played this hauntingly beautiful song on the radio last night. It reminded me of you. Made me wonder if you're happier now? I am no longer upset with you. I learnt that all my life I've been too selfish, and though I can blame it on my upbringing, on the pressures that they pushed upon me, on the lack of love I received, lack of attention, I won't. It's no one else's fault but mine. It's my fault I'm selfish. But I will somehow redeem myself by wondering about you. By praying for your redemption. For your emancipation. For your happiness. I know I said I don't believe in god, but lets overlook my atheism for once, and just pray for you. 

Just pray for you. Because you are pure light beauty.

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I returned to our place today. Isn't that funny? That corner of the city, I've come to call it our place. Ours. I saw so many ghosts of you. A twinkle of lively amethyst eyes. But those eyes were the wrong shade. A sweep of your graceful braid. But it was too short. They were never you. Maybe imitations of perfection, but never you. I miss you. 

You made me forget all my worldly troubles for a while. You made me forget that I have no real home to return to every night. You made me forget that everyone I've ever cared for has left and hurt me. You made me forget that I'm worthless.

You made me feel alive.

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I've come to realise I never really knew you. I'd feel as if we've been connected since the creation of the world, but I never learnt your story. I never learnt why you always stared at me with your soulfully sad eyes. A look of longing imprinted in them. I know you weren't longing for me, (though I wished you were) but it seemed as if you were longing for a purpose. But that can't possibly be true. Our purpose in this world is to die. Fade away. It's the one guarantee in life. 

I don't know why I'm suddenly so cynical.

But I do wonder about you? And then I'm left wondering if you are wondering about me?

I'm selfish. Wanting you all to myself. Wanting you to want me. Wanting you to think of me. But it's just my imagination. I have a vivid imagination. They use to tell me that in kindergarten. When the teachers sat us down and gave us coloured pencils and ordered us to draw, I'd sit there. Isn't that strange for an imaginative child, you might ask. But I sat there, just letting my imagination run. I was never good at expressing myself. Not in words. Not in pictures. I could only do it in thoughts. Then the teacher would come and question my lack of attention to the task at hand. I remember always coming with outrageous answers. So they wrote that on my report. Said I had such a vivid imagination that I could never stick to the task at hand. Quite hilarious now I think back.

I've always been selfish.

* * *

I'm not scared of death. It's the vast emptiness that follows that scares me. 

Some people are claustrophobic, scared of tight enclose spaces. I'm not like that. I don't mind being enclosed, as long as I know my limits. It's the endless expansion of space, the infinite possibilities that scares me.

I wonder who will truly remember me when I'm gone. When I was little, I planned to do something terribly great for mankind. Like save the world. I had decided I wanted the whole world to remember me when I died. I didn't want to be a celebrity, that's overstated, I didn't want to be missed, that's comforting but it's just a feeling that will fade. But I wanted to be so impressed into history, that there is no possibility that I will just disappear. I was foolish back then. Too trusting, too believing. It took years living in the real world for me to learn that lesson.

But you reminded me of believing in myself. You made me question for a moment my worth, made me reconsider my decision on my own worthlessness.

But now it doesn't matter anymore. Nothing will matter anymore.

I will no longer bother the world with my presence. I will fade away, disappear, and leave, as if I've never been here to begin with.

_I'm coming to find you, my love. Just be patient for a while longer, Duo. I'm so sorry._

_

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**End Notes:** There will be one more chapter, a more conclusive chapter. Happy ending? You'll have to wait to see. Please review, I'd love to hear what you think about this story plus it'd make me smile for the rest of the day. So pretty please?


	3. Chapter 3

**That Boy  **

by: davh

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_...I can feel your pain._

The knocking at the door confused him for a second. The deep voice calling his name hesitantly mystified him.

Nobody knew he lived here. Nobody could have possibly had the skills to trace him to this building. He covered his tracks very carefully.

Nobody.

Nobody except him…

He shook his head clear of these thoughts, grabbed the gun that sat comfortably on his bedside table and moved towards the door warily.

Whoever it was, knew him. That made them dangerous. Very dangerous.

He raised the gun as he opened the door… very slowly…

_Do you remember me?_

_Do you feel this connection between us?_

_Do you still feel weight of the world on your shoulders?_

And dropped the gun.

"He…Heero?"

_Are you here too?_

_Can you feel the beating of our hearts together as one?_

_Are you still in pain?_

"Hello Duo."

Heero barged his way into the apartment without a spoken invitation. As if he owned the place. His face was an emotionless mask, no betrayal of his thoughts. No reasoning of why he was here.

As he stooped over to take off his shoes, he eyes lingered on the fallen gun and as he stood up to proceed to the living room, the gun rested unperturbedly in his hands.

"S… STOP!" Duo was thrown out of his stupor when Heero picked up the gun. His gun. "Why are you here? Why now? Hell… How did you even find me?"

He turned around, mid step from his mission. 'What was the mission?'

"Did they send you here to kill me? Is that it? It's the only reason you would come to see me. After all…" He couldn't, wouldn't finish the sentence. He didn't want to remember the feeling when Heero left him.

Yet… he couldn't help wondering…

_Am I in heaven?_

_Have you come to lead me into paradise, angel?_

The heated gaze that Heero gifted him with was a far cry from the old Heero. From that boy. It broke his heart when he knew he couldn't approach Heero, when he could only admire him from afar but it shattered his heart when Heero left him. Twice.

"Duo, I'm sorry."

_Am I in hell?_

_Why is perfection marring her complexion in this fiery realm?_

"What the hell are you sorry for? Apologising in advance for killing me? Too late, buddy. I'm already dead. You killed my soul a long time ago." There was no need to hold back now. He was going die physically any minute now anyway.

Emotionally he was already dead.

"I'm not here to kill you." Heero's gorgeous blue eyes softened. His eyes trained on the floor. "I'm here to…" He paused. Whatever he was going to say was lost when he raised his head and looked into Duo's swirling amethysts.

_Why does this place feel so familiar?_

Duo was confused. Again. "Here to do what then? Inflict as much pain as possible without killing me?"

Heero mumbled. But the words 'love you' was lost to the silence.

"You know what? It doesn't matter. I don't care anymore. Whatever you do, my care factor is ZERO. Get it?" With that said, Duo proceeded to walk out of his own apartment. Heero can do with it whatever he wanted. He'll just find another place to live. Another place to hide. To disappear. For good. Just like after the two weeks Duo waited dejectedly for Heero at their little corner of the city. And never showed up.

But his movements were hindered by two warm arms wrapped around his torso.

"What the?"

_Why do I finally feel like I belong?_

"Listen to me, please?" Heero's voice pleaded. Some part of Duo's now foggy brain registered that Heero Yuy doesn't plead, but he ignored it. It was much easier to sink into the warmth of the body holding him. Heero's gotten stronger too, that same foggy part of his brain told him, smugly.

"I'm so sorry. I went away for a two-week business trip that Quatre sent me on and when I come back, you were gone. I was so scared that I lost you again."

"You never lost me Heero." Although his body has lost its fight, his voice hasn't. "You walked out on me remember? I asked you to move in with me and you flat out said no and left. You didn't even leave me a contact number."

"I'm sorry." The apologies were beginning to take their toll. "I panicked. I didn't know what to do at that stage of our relationship. I left to organise my thoughts and when I came back with the decision that yes, I wanted you, wanted to wake up every morning with you as the first thing I see, you already left."

"I kept seeing you in that apartment. Seeing what we could've had, if you had said yes. If you had stayed. I couldn't stand it."

Heero laughed. It was rich melodious sound. "We just kept missing each other didn't we?"

"I missed your laugh." Duo sighed sadly to himself.

Heero didn't laugh often. Not the soft laugh he used to treat Duo when he was truly amused. But when he did, the only word to describe it was beautiful.

_Maybe this is home._

Heero continued with his story. But this time with a soft smile. Duo still wanted him, or so he hoped.

"I couldn't believe it when I saw you on that street. You looked so lonely, heartbroken. And I knew deep down, it was my fault. Yet I couldn't bring myself to approach you. I thought I would just hurt you more. I kept my distance and watched over you, hoping you would eventually move on, because I'm not good enough for you, Duo. But when I came back after the business trip and noticed you left again… I realised I couldn't give you up. I still love you and I'm too selfish to let you go. I want to be the one to make you laugh, I want to be the one whose shoulders you cry on, I want to be the one to make you scream with ecstasy. That's why I'm here. I need to know, do you still love me?"

_After searching for so long, I've at long last found what I've been missing. It's that boy. He came back to me. He completes me. _

"Yes."

_I'm not sure where we are. But I don't care. Maybe we are just two spirits destined to wander this meandering path, and maybe we will for the rest of eternity but I don't mind. Not anymore. The notion of lasting for eternity would have frightened me with its vastness, but not anymore. Not with Heero here. _

"I love you, Heero. Don't ever leave me again. Please…"

"I wont, Duo. Never. I never stopped loving you and I'll love you til the end of forever. Hell, I'll keep loving you even after that."

His lips descended upon what he had once lost and has now regained. Renewing the passions of their love.

_I laughed at the notion of us together forever, forever seemed so long to me before. But now, with you by my side, I know that forever will never be daunting. Forever will be comforting. __Because, we have found each other, Duo._

This story ended with a kiss. A long searing kiss full of promises. And although there were many details to finalise, many issues to overcome, it was the beginnings of their trials and tribulations **together**.

_Forever. Just you and me._

**The End**

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**End Notes: **Firstly, thanks for those who read and reviewed, it did make me smile! I hope this last chapter answers some of the questions? By the way, the italics are first person and they are meant to have certain voices which I hope was understandable? Though some of the lines can be interchanged I guess. It's there because, one it kinda fit and also because I actually wrote this story just as a rant exercise last year, so it didn't have a plot, and thus my ending was this two voice conversation until I went back and tried to fix the loose ends with a plot (if you can call it that). Just a bit of random information for you.  
Anyways, sorry for the long note, hope you enjoyed it and it's a happy ending, I like happy endings. Please review and thanks again for reading.


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